


i get so emotional baby

by goodmorninglou



Series: the adventures of a wild sprace’s apartment [47]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Movie Nights, Multi, Sprace Apartment AU, crunch - Freeform, dorian loves davey, javid - Freeform, kinda cute, newsbians, race and Spot are emotional for each other, sprace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 03:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21154703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorninglou/pseuds/goodmorninglou
Summary: spot and race have movie night with the gang





	i get so emotional baby

**Author's Note:**

> you guys know the shpeel. i feel bad for not posting. but it’s better than two weeks of radio silence  
anyway!!  
love y’all, hope you enjoy!!

Race stepped out of their bedroom and sat down on the couch beside his husband, sipping some of Spot’s iced tea and leaning into his side. Dorian was undoing and redoing a puzzle on the floor, blonde cherub curls falling into his blue eyes, and Toria was giggling in her Pack-N-Play, playing intently with a ball of paper. She was easily entertained, as they’d found out within the first six months of her life—and continued to take advantage of.

Spot slung an arm around his shoulders. “Davey and Jack are on their way, so are Finch and Crutch.”

“Okay.” Race nodded, and Dorian moved from his place on the carpet to climb into his lap. “I told Maya to come pick them up at six thirty, because I know Crutch wanted to see them and so will Elmer, so hopefully they’re all here before she shows up.”

Dorian babbled, and then: “Auntie Maya!” He yelled happily. He had a tendency to like Maya more than either of his dads, but that might’ve been because she gave him junk food.

Race nodded. “Yes, Auntie Maya. You and your sister are spending the night, isn’t that exciting?” He grinned.

Dorian bounced slightly, and then fiddled with the strings on Race’s hoodie. “Daddy!”

A grin. “What’s your name?” He pointed at Dorian, tickling his chest slightly.

Dorian giggled and squirmed away, and then pointed to himself. “My name?”

Race nodded.

“Dorian!” He said joyfully, laughing.

“And what’s your nickname?” Spot chimed in, ruffling his son’s blonde hair.

“Chickadee!”

“Sure.” Race laughed. He turned to Spot, murmuring, “Do we call him that too much?”

Spot waved him off. “Nah.”

A single moment of silence, and then there was a knock on the door. Victoria babbled happily, Munch pushed an empty bottle off the coffee table, and Squirrel meowed loud enough for Dorian to decide to meow back.

“Come in!” Spot called, picking the bottle up from the carpet. “It’s open!”

Crutchie burst through the doorway, and didn’t say hi, or really acknowledge anyone’s existence besides Toria’s, whom he swept over to and lifted out of the Pack N Play while making sweet cooing noises.

“Finch.” He said immediately. “I want one.”

Finch snorted. “Hi Spot, hi Race, I apologize for my husband.”

“Nonsense.” Race laughed. “It’s Crutchie, we were expecting it.”

Jack and Davey appeared in the doorway, and Dorian jumped out of Race’s lap and toddled excitedly over to Davey, his designated favorite human. He still came behind Bappa the stuffed giraffe, though.

“Unca Davey!” Dorian yelled happily.

Davey grinned broadly. “My favorite nephew!” He hugged Dorian close to his chest, bouncing him happily, and added, “Don’t tell your aunts.”

“Okay!” He agreed, entirely over-enthusiastic in that adorable baby way.

“Look at you, you get bigger every time I see you!” Davey tickled Dorian’s feet. “What are you, 6’4? Are you driving yet? Do you have a college degree?”

“What’s a degree?”

“Something Uncle Jackie never got.” Davey mock-whispers.

“I missed you, Unca Davey.” Dorian murmurs, leaning his head on Davey’s shoulder.

Davey pouted, holding a hand to the back of Dorian’s blonde head, and Jack announced: “Well, I feel very loved!”

The room broke into laughter, and Race stood up to get everyone drinks, grinning.

People filtered in as a half hour passed. Maya arrived at 6:45 to pick up the kids—they’d had to practically wrestle a sleeping Victoria from Elmer’s arms, and Crutchie looked fit to cry—and, after another half hour of cacophony and pizza and wine, everyone was settled in for movie night.

“I can’t believe we finally found a night we were all free.” Race whispered to Spot, leaning back into his body; they were seated on the floor, Spot’s back against the couch, Race sitting between his legs. Their hands were intertwined over Race’s stomach.

“I know.” Spot murmured back, kissing Race’s hair fondly. “Seems like a miracle.”

“Can y’all shut up, Moana is  singing .” Jack huffed dramatically.

“Thirty-one years, and you’re still a child.” Spot laughed.

Jack threw a chip at him, Race ate it, and the whole exchange was put past them.

By the time the movie ended, half of them were asleep, and the other half were tipsy on wine and sleep-deprivation.

“Kids are hard.” Kath groaned.

“They’re not even here tonight.” Jack pointed out.

She sighed. “Yeah, and I miss them. That’s weird. I’ve been begging for a night away from Adam, in the nicest way possible, and now that I have it I just wanna squeeze him. What is that?”

Sarah took a long swig from the wine bottle and rasped: “Motherhood.”

Race snorted so aggressively that he choked on air, and Spot hit his back a few times until he was breathing regularly.

“It’s all good, bubba.” Spot murmured gently, pulling Race back into the circle of his arms.

Race’s heart flipped, as it always did when Spot called him bubba, as it always had and always would. “I love that name.”

“I know you do.” Spot chuckled, hiding his face in the juncture of Race’s neck and shoulder.

Race could understand Kath’s lament, to some degree, but on a more prominent level, he was glad to have Spot to himself for one night. Even if they were surrounded by their drunk, exhausted friends, he was glad having kids didn’t change the way they loved each other. It had only increased it, if anything. If that was possible.

“I love you, babydoll.” Race whispered, quiet enough that only the two of them could hear, wrapped in their little bubble of serenity.

Spot squeezed him closer. “I love you so much, Tonio.” He whispered back.

Race sighed contentedly and shut his eyes, leaning into Spot’s arms.

They slept in, the next morning, without any babies to wake them up. Did some other things with their quiet morning, in their quiet—not so quiet?—bed. Made pancakes, like they do on Sunday’s but on a Saturday instead. Sat quietly at the kitchen table, hands intertwined on the surface as Race ate his pancakes and studied the way Misty Copeland danced and Spot flipped through a book. His reading glasses—only ever worn at home, when they were sure they wouldn’t be disturbed—were low on his nose, and his hair was ruffled like a dark halo around his head.

At some point, Race stopped admiring the way the prima danced  en pointe and started admiring his husband, every tiny detail he might have overlooked since the last time they hadn’t been distracted. The way his hair still curled youthfully over his thick brows, and the corners of his eyes had the lightest trace of laugh lines embedded in them. How his intelligent dark eyes skidded quickly over the page, and the way his thumb rubbed absentmindedly along the back of Race’s own. How his other hand was tucked beneath his chin, thick flannel falling down his smooth, curved forearm, and every few moments, he’d cock his head to one side as he read, as if processing. Mostly Race just devoured his beauty, over and over again, clanging through his mind:  _ this man is beautiful, this man is beautiful, this man is my husband, this man is beautiful._

Tears pricked in his eyes at some point, but he didn’t notice.

“Race, you’re staring.” Spot chuckled, and then looked up. His face fell when he saw the water lingering in his husband’s blue eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asked immediately, frame tightening.

Race laughed, smiling. “I just love you, is all.”

Spot chuckled in surprise. “You’re crying because you love me?” He asked disbelievingly, one brow raised.

But Race nodded firmly. “It just makes me emotional.”

Spot shook his head at Race’s antics and beckoned him closer. “Come here, you absolute goose.”

Race left his pancakes, his dancing videos, his chair and straddled Spot’s lap, burying his face in his husband’s shoulder. Spot still smelled the same, after all the years. Like Spot.

It’s good to be held. It’s important to be kissed, important to be intimate, but Race thinks sometimes that it’s more important to be held. To just be wrapped in someone else’s arms, without looking away, without saying anything, barely thinking. Just sharing body heat and unspoken words. Just knowing another’s soul from the way their hands feel on your spine and their heartbeat feels against your chest. It’s something built into his bones, in his soul. Being close to Spot is like being close to everything his world spins around. Like holding his heart in his hands, because Spot already owns it, anyway.

“It makes me emotional, too.” Spot whispers, after minutes or hours of Race being in his arms.

“Yeah?” Race murmured softly.

A nod into his collarbone. “I look at you, sometimes, when you fall asleep before I do, and I just can’t believe you’re real. And I always have to stop myself from thinking about how much I love you before I start, because... it’s like it could consume me, sometimes. But it’s never terrifying.” He paused. “It makes me cry, too.” He whispered, quieter than before.

Race holds him a little tighter and chuckles. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Spot laughs, kisses his collarbone, pulls him closer into his chest.

Race buries his grin in Spot’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> i think it’s cute  
spot and race love each other so much  
if you love Halloween, be happy! it’s only eight days away! if you hate Halloween, be happy! eight more days and then its over! either way, smile, because you are SO beautiful  
love y’all  
<333


End file.
